Life Insurance, Youth, and Treachery
by Lady Bitter Irony
Summary: Set in an AU universe where Kambei and Kyuzo manage to have their duel to the death. Only I decided in a fit of pique to write the duel as dark comedy. In the end it came out heavier on comedy than dark, but…well, look at the title.


Disclaimer: It's not mine, I'm not making money off it, and I only made Heihachi a bit of a jerk because he's the one who works best that way...don't hurt me, Heihachi-lovers...if it weren't for Kyuzo I'd be one of you!

"I can't believe you're doing this," Shichiroji said with a dramatic clap of the heel of a hand to his forehead.

"Why not?" Heihachi held up the slightly glossy certificate. "You're taking bets on the outcome."

"Yes, but I'm betting on Kambei-sama _winning_." He glanced at Heihachi sidelong. "I'm not taking out life insurance on him."

Heihachi shrugged, then impulsively threw an arm around Shichiroji with a cheery smile. "Look at it this way. Whatever happens, one of us wins."

"But…" Shichiroji craned his long neck to read the life insurance certificate. "How much is it for?"

"Enough. The salesman wasn't happy when he heard about all the losing battles, but when I pointed out Kambei-sama had survived them all, he admitted he could give me a good rate. That and, ah, I didn't mention the whole duel thing."

"That whole duel thing which is the reason you took this policy out in the first place?"

"Yeah, that one."

Schichiroji fingered the certificate with an awed expression. "You could buy a lot of rice with this."

"I know." They turned their steps to what would soon become an arena famous throughout Kogakyo.

The duel had been arranged to take place in a back alley that seemed to double as an open-air, fairly disorganized warehouse for a wholesale mecha parts supplier. Katsushiro and Kirara had found it using their usual method, walking around in a fangirlish haze until they got lost and wandered into the alley, and then waiting there for the others to find them, as they invariably did. It was good Katsushiro was over his unhealthy crush, or it would have been a very uncomfortable six and half hours for Kirara. As it was, Heihachi suspected he had induced his fangirl haze by thinking of Kyuzo, which was fair enough since Kirara's loving thoughts of Kambei fairly bubbled form her eyes. Both combatants were thus represented.

They had inspected the alley and declared it eminently satisfying, well pleased with the amount of scrap iron available to serve as shields, projectiles, and collateral damage. A certain amount of collateral damage was necessary for any true samurai fight. Heihachi hoped the owner of the mecha parts, whoever he was, had taken out insurance.

A mass of Shichiroji's clients waited at the far side of the alley. Their bookie waved to them cheerfully. "You probably should get up on the rooftops or something," he called. "You won't want to be down here when the duel starts."

Katsushiro and Kirara already waited on the roof of a nearby building, almost hidden in the shadow of Kikuchiyo, who was serving as an oversized perch for Komachi. The little girl swung her legs excitedly, sucking a lollipop—colored a bright green, flavored verdigris-and-watermelon. Heihachi had bought it for her, and they were going through every flavor in the candy store.

"Are you two going to take your own advice?"

A cheer from Shichiroji's clients would have told Heihachi the identity of the speaker even if he hadn't recognized that wry tone. He turned, nervously rolling up the life insurance certificate and hiding it in his vest.

Kambei looked…relaxed, Heihachi decided. Possibly well-rested. Maybe even sleepy. It was the hooded eyes that did it—the old samurai was disconcertingly mellow. He seemed to be wearing a small smile.

Kyuzo, as always, looked like death itself.

Heihachi probably shouldn't have found that thought heartening, but he did. He had, after all, taken what amounted to a rather sizable bet that Kyuzo would in fact _be _death itself. Which seemed likelier by the second.

Unless Kambei was hiding something up his sleeve. He tended to do that.

"Hey, bookie! On second thought, I'm putting twenty bales of rice on the scarlet samurai!"

"That's just as well," another called, "'Cause I'm putting twenty bales on the old one!"

Kambei looked a bit miffed.

"You're insane, man!"

"Not at all. Don't you recognize him? That samurai defended Kanna village from the Emperor himself!"

"Well, the red one helped!"

"Hey, wasn't he Ayamaro's bodyguard? My money's on him!"

"Whatever happened to Ayamaro, anyway?"

"I think he's still alive…"

"I haven't heard anything recently."

"My money on the old samurai!"

"Mine, too!"

"Well, I'm still with the other one. I like his hair."

Kyuzo turned to glare into the audience at that, and the intensity of his gaze started another flurry of betting.

A hand closed on Heihachi's shoulder like a clap of doom.

"Oh! Um, Kambei-sama…" He smiled so widely he thought his jaw would crack. "Good luck."

"Thank you." Kambei's expression oozed benevolence. "You probably want to get out of the way now."

"Oh! Right! Well…thanks. Good luck again!"

There must be a special place in the afterlife for people like Kambei, Heihachi thought as he clambered a ladder to a seemingly unoccupied roof. Full of sweet rice and all the best lollipop flavors and women more beautiful that Kirara but just as willing. The thought assuaged Heihachi's guilt somewhat.

A call from the crowd across the alley caused him to start.

"Hey, do you remember which one killed the Amanushi?"

"Did either of them kill the Amanushi?"

"Wasn't it a group effort?"

Heihachi stopped midstep on the ladder, trying to remember how, exactly, the Amanushi had died. It wasn't clear in his mind, almost as if somehow it hadn't really happened. Was it all a dream? Then how was he here? In real life things didn't just skip to the interesting parts…what was he thinking, surely the Amanushi's death was plenty interesting…unless you were more interested in the upcoming duel…But what had happened? He thought Kambei had had something to do with it, that would be like him…

If it turned out Ukyo had died in a fall from a ladder, he and Heihachi almost had something in common, because _midstep_ meant literally stopping with his foot in the space between two ladder rungs. And he was only holding onto the frame with one hand.

The other grasped weakly at the air before it was seized in a soft, but surprisingly powerful, grip. Heihachi regained his footing and made it to the roof, helped along by his savior.

"Thanks," he panted when he finally felt firm, flat concrete beneath him.

"Don't mention it," Ayamaro said, and cheerfully returned to his folding chair at the edge of the roof.

Heihachi gaped.

"Is it this outfit? I know, the Shikimoribito have a strange style, but they were so nice in giving it to me and it's not like anything I wear could be flattering anymore anyways…I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"Hayashida Heihachi."

"Oh, yes! You're one of Kambei and Kyuzo's companions, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Heihachi distinctly remembered being rather discourteous to Ayamaro the last time they had met, but the corpulent ex-magistrate seemed to be following a policy of forgiveness. Or perhaps forgetfulness.

He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Who do you think is going to win?"

"Um…" Heihachi started in a whisper so quiet even he couldn't hear it. "To tell the truth," he added in a louder tone, "My money's on Kyuzo-dono." There. That sounded better than _I've taken a life insurance policy out on Shimada Kambei. _"What about you?"

"Well, Kyuzo's certainly skilled. But Kambei—well, have you ever heard the saying, _Youth and skill will always be overcome by old age and treachery?_"

Heihachi winced at the word 'treachery' and saw his weather doll dance on its string in the corner of his eye. Ayamaro didn't seem to notice. "You mean Kambei is tricky?"

Ayamaro nodded, and Heihachi remembered that the ex-magistrate technically represented old age and finesse done out by youth and treachery. Maybe he overestimated the effect of tricks.

Maybe not.

Kambei had, after all, escaped death with a hairpin. And he tended to fight dirty. Heihachi remembered smashed Mimizuku toes, and those were the least of it…He hid a wince when he remembered one particular encounter between Kambei and Hyogo. Come to think of it, Heihachi's own cleverness had been helpful in that fight…

No! Skill would overcome treachery. It had to. Or he was out a fair bit. Life insurance didn't come cheap…

The alley fell silent at a piercing whistle from Kikuchiyo. "All right, everybody," he steamed. "Listen to Momotaro-san down there."

Shichiroji winced at his nickname, but shrugged and bowed to the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen…uh…" He trailed off. By the look of terror on his face, Heihachi realized the pinwheel-haired samurai must have spent all his time taking bets and none preparing for an appropriate speech.

Kambei and Kyuzo looked ready to kill. Correction, they looked ready to commit a massacre, starting with Shichiroji.

"Ladies and gentlemen…" he repeated weakly.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Katsushiro rose from his place on the far roof and announced at the top of his lungs, "A SAMURAI'S LIFE IS ON THE LINE! YOUR ATTENtion, please…" He gasped for breath. "YOU SEE BEFORE you (gasp) SHIMADA KAMBEI AND, UM, JUST KYUzo-dono (gasp) ACCORDING TO AN AGReement made (gasp) BEFORE THE WAR ON THE CAPITOL, THEY WILL now (gasp) FIGHT TO THE DEATH!"

The crowd cheered. At Heihachi's side, Ayamaro nodded appreciatively.

"Good dramatic opening," he said. "You hear it from a lot of street performers."

Heihachi thought of Gorobei and wondered what he would make of Katsushiro's speech. Or the rest of this, for that matter. With a heavy feeling in his heart, he knew the entertainer-samurai wouldn't approve of his financial decisions this day, however lucrative.

Below, the combatants began circling. Absolute silence fell. Heihachi found himself counting the number of circles they made. They went around eight times, counter-clockwise—wasn't that called widdershins? They circled each other eight times, moving widdershins…He concentrated on their motion so intently that when they stopped walking, the rest of the alley seemed to twist in the opposite direction. Clockwise, non-widdershins…

He shook his head and tried to pay more attention instead of being simply obsessive.

"Kyuzo-dono," Kambei said. "My life, as requested." The mutters that followed from his supporters seemed to key him in that something more optimistic was required, so he added, "If you can take it, that is," with not-unadmirable bluster.

"Kambei-sama," Kyuzo said, "Only I will have the pleasure of your death."

There was an ensuing shocked silence as those who had never heard Kyuzo's voice before first processed it, and those who had heard his voice before processed the fact that he had just addressed someone by name, nevermind a very respectful honorific. Heihachi, being the adaptable sort, recovered quickly and then pondered the implications of Kyuzo's by-now-familiar line. Because if it was true, and Kyuzo was the only person who could cause Kambei's death, what would happen if Kambei won the duel? With Kyuzo dead, would Kambei become effectively immortal? Or would he after all still be subject to earthquake, fire, flood, fatally bad hair days, or acts of kami?

How much would Heihachi's life insurance policy be worth if the man he took it out on couldn't die?

"Yeah, yeah," he heard Kambei mutter into the silence. "Love you, too."

"WHAT!?"

Another first for Kyuzo's vocal cords: never before had they reached such a volume. Or pitch. Kyuzo was surprisingly squeaky when taken off-guard. Several members of the audience tittered.

"I, er, love you too," Kambei repeated above more laughter. It was plain he had meant his comment to go unheard.

"Seriously?"

"No! No, you fool, I'm speaking sarcastically, because I am growing sick of that line, and because—"

"Let's face it," Kikuchiyo rumbled. "We all know you have a soft spot for him, Kyu-taro-san."

"That does it!" In a flash, Kyuzo's swords were in his hands. "Let's finish this, you silly, impoverished old man!"

"Now, now," Kambei said mildly. "You know Hyogo was just playing to your insecurities."

On the topic of Hyogo, Heihachi was suddenly put in mind of him, because the way Kyuzo proceeded to charge Kambei reminded him very much of the gun-toting bodyguard's demise. The result of this charge was different, however, because Kambie was not hampered in his defense by a very large gun. He parried one of Kyuzo's swords with his own and the other with his scabbard, and the fight was begun.

"Kyuzo's much sloppier than usual," Heihachi mused aloud.

"He doesn't fight well when he's agitated," Ayamaro said. "You know, he might have been terribly bored in my employ, but those were probably the best years of his life for skill."

"Pretty tricky of Kambei to annoy him, then." Heihachi couldn't help but admire the old samurai, though, and suddenly he regretted the entire life insurance policy.

Then the crowed _oohed_ admiringly, because the first mecha part was thrown. Kambei heaved it at Kyuzo in an attempt to buy a few feet from the crimson-coated samurai's flashing blades. The gambit paid off. The part—Heihachi suspected it was a Mimizuku breastplate—was neatly quartered, but by the time the pieces hit the ground Kambei was on the other side of the alley.

Kyuzo looked ready to throw something himself, but his hands were full. He glared at Kambei with a look he plainly hoped would kill.

Then Kambei proved beyond any possible doubt in Heihachi's mind that he was suicidal. He raised a hand to his lips and blew Kyuzo a kiss.

He promptly dodged one of Kyuzo's swords, a Yakan lid, three Tobito eyes in rapid succession, the rest of the Yakan, what looked like part of a Benigumo's grabbing claw, and the second sword. That last pinned his coat to the wall, but he pulled free, leaving the cloth behind. The tunic beneath was very flattering to his figure. Kirara looked about to faint.

None of it gave Kyuzo pause. He grasped for more projectiles, aided by advice from the audience.

"Try the Tobito leg!"

"Does that eye shoot lazers?"

"The sword, the sword! No, the other one—"

"Hey, does that come with a grappling hook?"

Kambei continued to dodge, working his way across the alley. What was he planning?

"Hey, is that what the inside of a Raiden looks like?"

"I don't think that was a good idea, but—"

"Careful, Scarlet-Samurai-san! That looks…ouch…"

Heihachi was amazed at the sheer bulk of half the things Kyuzo lifted, but then he remembered a tradition of stolen Nobuseri guns and over-the-top feats in general. It made sense.

Kyuzo was trying to pry a Benigumo faceplate from a pile of Raiden limbs and steel bars when Kambei reached him and grabbed his wrist. "Enough."

They stood staring at each other. Kambei was unarmed; Heihachi saw his sword pinning to the alley wall a metal arm that looked a lot like Shichiroji's. After checking to see if the bookie still had his arm—he did—he looked back at the combantants.

"This is insane," Kambei said.

"So what?"

"I cannot defeat you—"

"Certainly—"

"—and you cannot defeat me—"

"—how do you know?—"

"—AND ALL WE WILL ACHIEVE HERE IF WE CONTINUE IS BOUNDLESS DESTRUCTION." Kambei had a remarkably good oratorical voice, even at the top of his lungs. "I, for one, have no interest in continuing willful destruction of property, I do not want to kill you, Kyuzo-dono, and contrary to popular belief, _I do not wish to die._ Nor do I plan to." He released Kyuzo's wrist with what looked like a fairly brutal twist, but Heihachi was suddenly put in mind of a caress.

"But…then…"

Kambei bowed. "It's been a pleasure, Kyuzo-dono. But I think I'm done fighting."

"You _coward!"_

"You really think so?" he asked dryly.

"How are we ever going to prove which one of us is best now?"

Kambei shrugged.

"He has a point, Kambei-sama," Shichiroji called from the roof. "A lot is riding on the outcome of this duel." He looked pointedly at the bet-takers across the alley.

"Forgive me," Kambei said. He turned his back on Kyuzo and began to walk away.

"This isn't funny," Kyuzo said.

His eyes were narrowed to slits boring into Kambei's back. A moment later, they were wider than Heihachi had ever seen them before, and crossing as he tried to see the cool steel he felt at his throat, courtesy of a knife Kambei had materialized from seemingly nowhere.

"Really?" Kambei asked. "I think it is."

"See?" Ayamaro said beside Heihachi. "Old age and treachery."

Kambei seemed to hear that, because he turned and glared up at the roof. "I am not old," he said. "I'm in my thirties."

"Late thirties," Shichiroji qualified.

"Thirty-nine is still thirty-something," Kambei said coolly.

Kyuzo laughed.

He probably meant it to be his typical disdainful huff, and with that knife at his throat Heihachi didn't think anything heartier would be a good idea, but he seemed unable to stick to a single huff. His shoulders began shaking, and Kambei just managed to pull away his knife before Kyuzo doubled over in a bout of side-splitting laughter.

"I guess…" Kambei chuckled. "What's so funny?"

Kyuzo didn't answer.

The tension melted like iron in a crucible, and just as violently. The audience deflated in something like relief, and immediately began offering their commentary.

"I knew the old guy would win."

"He isn't old, he's thirty-something."

"And anyway, the scarlet samurai's still standing."

"Only 'cause the old one let him live."

"But still…"

"And I tell you, he's not old."

"And I tell you, Scarlet-sama's not dead. Therefore—"

"Katsushiro," Kambei called, "Do you remember the terms of Gorobei's bet?"

"Which one? Oh…you mean the…" The young samurai flushed at remembered embarrassment. "If he lost, he died. If I won…I bought him lunch."

"Ah." Kambei glanced at Kyuzo. "I believe a purchasing of refreshments is in order."

"I'm broke," Kyuzo said flatly.

"In that case, allow me to treat you." Kambei threw an arm around Kyuzo's shoulders and marched him out of the alley. Heihachi caught a glimpse of his face as they passed below. The scarlet-coated samurai didn't look especially unhappy with his situation.

"He'll be all right," Ayamaro said. "This might even prove good for him. He's needed some friend." He frowned. "Well, I guess there was Hyogo, but—"

"Real friends," Heihachi said. They let it lie at that.

Kyuzo's swords were left stuck to the wall, along with Kambei's coat. Heihachi big Ayamaro a good afternoon and climbed down to retrieve them.

"Hey," Shichiroji said.

"Hi."

"Man, it's a pain sorting these stakes out…anyway…"

Heihachi pulled out his life insurance certificate on Kambei, held it before Shichiroji's eyes, and methodically ripped it to shreds.

"Okay then…" Shichiroji rubbed the base of his pinwheel hair. "You know, the old man's going to die someday."

"Really?" Heihachi grinned. "I'm not sure he will."

Shichiroji laughed. "Say, I think I know the place he'll be going to with Kyuzo-dono. We discovered it together the other day. The rice is from Kanna."

"Really?"

"I'm sure. Come on. Kambei will need his coat, and Kyuzo will be wanting his swords back."

"Do you think that's such a good idea?"

Shichiroji shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen? They've settled that score for now."

"You know," Heihachi said as a thought occurred to him, "Kyuzo-dono might want to start taking lessons in treachery."

Shichiroji raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who could he learn from, besides the old master?"

"Well…there have to be other tricky samurai out there." And if not, he could almost imagine Kambei offering to teach Kyuzo himself. Heihachi was not entirely convinced that the white-coated samurai planned to live far into his forties.

He liked a challenge far too much.

And as for Kyuzo…

Heihachi suddenly regretted ripping up the life insurance policy.

"Think about it," he said to Shichiroji. "After all, old age and treachery will always be defeated by youth, skill…and _even more treachery_."


End file.
